


The stars fell in love with you (as did I)

by fangirlscribbles



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 09:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3763462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlscribbles/pseuds/fangirlscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey is a guard at an art museum, but none of the paintings are anywhere near as beautiful as the boy he meets there. (<a href="http://cockslutovich.tumblr.com/post/116623826752/bellafarella-myrishswamp-michacl-im-at-a">x</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The stars fell in love with you (as did I)

Mickey sighed deeply as he passed through the large, half dark rooms of the museum where he worked. Being a guard at an art museum was perhaps not the most exciting job he could imagine, but it paid the bills. Besides, he did like to draw, and working at an art museum occasionally helped with inspiration for his own sketches.  
  
He passed into the next room and froze. This room was probably the biggest in the entire museum and most of it was dark empty, like the others. But right through the middle of this room shone a bright sunbeam, lighting up the dust motes in the air – and the man standing there. He was tall and broad-shouldered, the sun hitting his read hair in a way that took Mickey’s breath away.  
  
He stayed in the shadows for a moment, scanning the man’s face. Hair, forehead, eyebrows, eyes, freckles, nose, lips. The only way to describe him, Mickey thought as his eyes slipped back to the freckles, studying the constellations they painted on the man’s skin, was _beautiful_.  
  
That thought jerked him back to reality. Mickey Milkovich did _not_ think of other guys as ‘beautiful.’ _Get a goddamn grip_ , he told himself. Nonetheless, he wanted to talk to this guy, and he’d made it easy for Mickey. He was standing there, with his phone out, obviously taking a picture. The look on his face, the intense way he looked at his phone, told Mickey he was taking a selfie, but that didn’t really matter.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he moved out of the shadows and approached the redhead. “Hey,” he said, startling the other man, “no taking pictures of the artwork.”  
  
The flush that rose to the man’s cheeks was downright delightful, Mickey noted. He also noticed that his eyes were green, and the difference in height between the two of them as the guy blinked down at him with wide eyes.  
  
“I… I wasn’t taking pictures of the artwork,” he said then, stuttering a little. Mickey wondered if it was purely shock and embarrassment, or something else. The way the man’s eyes flitted over his face and then, briefly, down his body a second later answered that question and Mickey smirked to himself. “I was taking a selfie.”  
  
Mickey smirked. “I know.” He winked at the man, inwardly performing a minor victory dance when the man flushed even more.  
  
After a few moments’ half-awkward staring competition, the redhead opened his mouth. “Uh, I’m Ian,” he said, and Mickey felt himself flush. He hoped it wasn’t enough to be noticeable.  
  
He grinned back at Ian. “Mickey,” he replied, and he swore the smile he got back was brighter than the sun.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Ian was back in the museum a few weeks later. It was almost exactly the same as last time; it was a sunny Sunday, and the museum was nearly empty. Mickey was bored out of his mind, walking from room to room and idly looking at the paintings. The difference now was that he’d met Ian, gone on a few dates with him, _knew_ him. He’d seen all of them at least twice already, and they were much less interesting when he’d seen the freckles that covered Ian’s pale skin.  
  
He found Ian in the same room as last time, but this time standing in the shadows. He was studying one of the paintings, and Mickey noticed with a small smile that it was one of his own favorites.  
  
“Hey handsome,” he said as he stood beside Ian, startling him a little. “What are you doing?”  
  
Ian hummed. He pointed to one of the figures in the painting, turning to look at Mickey with a teasing smile. “I think this dude looks a bit like you,” he said, and Mickey raised his eyebrows. Ian’s grin widened.  
  
“Oh yeah?” Mickey leaned in, squinting at the painting. “Maybe.”  
  
Ian turned back to the painting, and Mickey turned back to him. He was wearing a tank top today, and Mickey tracked the freckles on his shoulder with his eyes. Since he’d met Ian that first time five weeks ago, he’d lost track of how many times he’d tried to draw those freckles.  
  
“Know what,” he said, putting his hand on Ian’s shoulder and pulling him away from the painting and into the sunlight, “sit down over here.”  
  
Ian looked up at him in confusion, blinking those green eyes much like he had the first time. Mickey wished he could say he didn’t melt, but it would be a lie. “What are you doing?” he asked, but obediently stayed in place as Mickey backed away.  
  
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Don’t do the puppy eyes, Gallagher,” he said as he sat down as well, a few meters in front of Ian. “I’m just going to draw you.”  
  
He felt like he’d made a mistake when Ian’s face lit up. “You draw?” he asked, sounding ridiculously excited. “Me? You draw me?”  
  
“Yes, Gallagher,” Mickey drawled, fishing out his tiny sketchpad from his back pocket, “I draw. And not _just_ you, I draw other things too.”  
  
He fished out a pencil from another pocket and set it to the paper.  
  
“Like?” Ian prodded and Mickey sighed, glaring up at him. “What other things do you draw?”  
  
Mickey shrugged. “Stuff,” he muttered. He tried to get back to his drawing, but he could feel Ian’s eyes on him. After a few minutes, he sighed and looked up. “Okay, fine. Maybe I mostly just draw you lately.”  
  
Ian looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Can I see?” He started to get up, but Mickey glared and gestured for him to _sit the fuck back down_ with his eyebrows.  
  
“No. Maybe later.”  
  
Ian let out a noise of agreement, and silence settled around them for a while. Mickey was the one who broke it, letting out a frustrated noise and throwing his pencil away.  
  
“This isn’t good anyway.” He sighed and got up. “Let’s do this some other time, some other place.”  
  
Ian grinned teasingly at him. “Your place, maybe?” he suggested.  
  
They’d been to Ian’s apartment a few times, mostly to fuck each other’s brains out. They had yet to go to Mickey’s place. It wasn’t a conscious decision on Mickey’s part, it had just ended up like that, but he could see that Ian was eager to see where he lived.  
  
He shrugged. “I have a studio, so why not.”

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

“Some other time” turned out to be three days later, and Mickey had never been more satisfied with a decision to invite someone over than he was now. Ian was stretched out over his couch, bathed in sunlight and half asleep, only wearing sweatpants that were very low on his hips. He looked inviting as hell, but Mickey steered his mind away from inappropriate thoughts as he studied Ian’s freckles.  
  
“Why are you so fascinated with my freckles anyway,” Ian mumbled into his arm. Mickey shrugged, even though Ian had his eyes closed and couldn’t see him.  
  
“I don’t know,” he answered, half-lying.  
  
He thought he sort of knew why he liked Ian’s freckles so much. They looked like stars, fallen from the sky and splattered across his skin. Mickey would never ever get tired of looking at them, tracing patterns with his eyes and fingertips: constellations, supernovas, entire solar systems. They were all there.  
  
“It’s like you’re made of sunlight, and all the stars are drawn to you,” Mickey mumbled, before he even realized what he was saying. “All of them, right there on your skin. It’s beautiful.”  
  
His face flushed beet red when he realized what he was saying, and Ian was looking at him in amazement when Mickey glanced up from his painting. When Mickey met his gaze, Ian smiled so brightly at him Mickey thought for a moment that he’d gone blind.  
  
“You are,” he said, voice soft and full of admiration. “You’re beautiful, Mickey. Inside and out, so beautiful.”  
  
Mickey felt his heart beat faster and thought to himself that he might be in love with this boy made of sunlight and stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Read, like & reblog on [tumblr](http://cockslutovich.tumblr.com/post/116633393592/and-the-stars-fell-in-love-with-you-as-did-i)


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